


One Long, Long Night

by Primarina (PastelBrachypelma)



Category: Sly Cooper (Video Games)
Genre: Fluff, Food, Gen, Light Angst, Literal Sleeping Together, Male Friendship, Platonic Cuddling, Platonic Male/Male Relationships, Platonic Relationships, Rescue, Rescue Missions, Sleeping Together, post contessa's place
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-13
Updated: 2020-04-13
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:13:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23621386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PastelBrachypelma/pseuds/Primarina
Summary: And yet…And yet this could still be a dream.
Relationships: Bentley & Sly Cooper & Murray
Comments: 10
Kudos: 32





	One Long, Long Night

Bentley sat silently, watching Sly and Murray talking over dinner. It wasn’t much, but Bentley had managed to persuade some local business owners into handing over three days’ worth of food. This area of Prague was dominated by the wealthy Contessa, and many residents were poor as dirt. Pirogies, cole slaw, cabbage soup, and some lean kielbasa was all they could spare, and rationing it was hard work. 

Especially if both your comrades had just gotten out of solitary confinement.

“Sure you don’t want the last kielbasa slice, Murray?” Sly asked, spindly fingers holding his fork aloft over the half-dollar sized disc of meat. His long, fluffy tail (the only part of him that seemed fully intact after who knew how long in “The Hole”) twitched like a cat’s while awaiting the answer.

“Yeah,” Murray nodded. “I’m happy to share, Sly. Besides, at least I got some food...even if it was laced with spice!” 

Sly’s lip quirked into a smile. “Thanks.” And with a flash of his striking snake reflexes, the last of the kielbasa disappeared past his lips. The slim raccoon sighed, crossing one leg over the other under the table, chin drifting onto his hand. “That’s delicious. Thanks for finding us some food, Bentley. I’ve been about to keel over for days!” 

“Y-yeah, sure thing.” Bentley smiled, but it wilted quickly. He didn’t want to worry his friends when there were bigger fish to fry, and so much more at stake than a simple treasure or a piece of valuable artwork. It just...didn’t seem real. Just the other day, he’d sat here, alone, sipping at a meagre gruel he’d whipped up from some herbs growing near the safe house, going over blueprints. From the time they were children, they hadn’t been apart. Ever. He’d felt the loss so keenly, even missing Murray’s snoring and Sly’s careless antics. Things that had annoyed him before now provided him with nostalgia. 

He was barely able to eat himself, though he forced himself to finish his meal, listening to Sly and Murray joking and laughing. Sly was doing some impression of the guards, and Murray laughed until water came out of his nose...which only got Sly laughing. It was like music to Bentley’s ears. And yet…

And yet, now he understood how easy it was to lose all this. If he’d been a second too late, Sly would have starved or gone mad in isolation, and Murray would’ve been a mindless monster under the Contessa’s control. He had to be careful not to lose them again.

Bentley was startled from his thoughts by Sly yawning full and deep. “Welp, think I’ll hit the hay,” the thief announced, stretching his arms up above his head. Sly had always been thin, full of lean muscle while weighing almost nothing (it was a wonder getting knocked about like he did while on the job hadn’t broken more bones, to be frank), but after his time in prison, he seemed worse for wear. His fur was matted and dirty in patches, and, as he stretched, Bentley could see the shadows of ribs against his shirt. It made him shudder, seeing evidence of his dear friend’s fragility. 

Despite his cocky and devil-may-care attitude, Sly had a big heart, and cared deeply for the ones he was closest to. Bentley had never before ached to care for Sly so thoroughly, to make sure he was warm and safe and fed. The raccoon looked dead tired, and Bentley wondered how he hadn’t collapsed by now.

“Yeah, sounds like a good idea,” Murray seconded, scratching at his belly. His eyes were still puffy and watery, side effects of the spice, and he looked like he hadn’t gotten much sleep while in jail either. He had gotten the brunt of the Contessa’s negative attention, and it horrified Bentley to try to imagine what had happened to him. Murray liked to pretend that he was tough, and he was very strong, as he had proven countless times throughout their adventures together, but inside, he was a gentle soul who valued his friends, good food, and his beloved van. He was a man of simple pleasures, and it couldn’t be said that he was the sharpest tool in the shed. But he was unfailingly loyal, and that made him an awesome friend and partner.

“Joining us, Bentley?” Sly asked, already up from the table, folding his gloves and setting his hip bag by his cane.

“Y-yes, I’ll be along in a minute,” Bentley replied. “Let me just clean up first.”

“Lemme help ya, Bentley,” Murray offered, already clearing away the detritus on the small, commandeered table in the little shack currently functioning as their safe house. 

“Oh, yeah,” Sly yawned again, trailing back to the table. “Sorry. Here.” He gathered up his dishes and handed them to Murray. “You wash, I’ll dry?”

“That’s very kind of you,” Bentley interjected, swiping the dishes out of Murray’s hands, “but I’m really all right doing it on my own. You guys get ready for bed, I’ll finish up in here.”

“You sure about that, pal?” Murray asked, frowning. “Don’t they say ‘many hands make light work’?”

“What he said.” Sly grinned. “I’m happy to pull my weight around here.”

“Really,” Bentley reassured them, heading to the sink. “Helps me think if my hands are busy. Besides, you need as much sleep as you can get!” He jumped when he felt Sly’s furred palm on his shoulder. 

“So do you, buddy,” Sly pointed out. “But all right. I’ll lay out your sleeping bag for ya.”

“Hmph. Fair trade, I suppose,” Bentley teased, smiling as he watched Sly call dibs on the spot next to the window, Murray’s playful groan of protests slithering through the thin wood of the door.

And yet…

And yet this could still be a dream. 

Bentley bent his head and focused on the task at hand. Having something to do always calmed him down.

~

Bentley awoke for the third time to Sly tossing and turning in his sleeping bag. Sly did not sleep like a log, and while they were all light sleepers due to the nature of their job, Sly was the lightest of them all, and the one most prone to insomnia, followed by Bentley. The turtle rolled over onto his side, his eyes trailing along the defined muscles in Sly’s back, bare of any shirt despite the cool air. He could tell Sly wasn’t asleep; one frustrated twitch of his tail later, and Sly was lying on his back, hands linked over his stomach. He turned to look at Bentley, brown eyes weary. “Hey,” he whispered.

“Hi,” Bentley propped himself up on his elbow. “Can’t sleep?”

Sly frowned, biting his lower lip. A gurgling noise, not dissimilar to the noise of a small stream, followed, and the raccoon winced. “Sorry,” he apologized, sighing. “Food was good, and I'm glad to have it, just…”

“Not enough.” Bentley nodded solemnly in understanding. It wouldn’t be the first time he and the gang had been forced to subsist on less-than-ideal portion sizes, and it was especially awful after the forced fast Sly had to endure. “I-I’m sorry. It was all I could find on short notice.”

Sly shrugged, rolling over onto his stomach with a wry smile. “I’ll live. I’m tired enough that I’ll pass out anyway, in a minute.”

“What’re you guys talkin about?” Murray asked, poking his head over Bentley’s shoulder.

“Honestly?” Sly stretched his legs out with a satisfied grunt. “What food sounds amazing right now? Tacos.”

Bentley rolled his eyes, about to scold Sly for tempting himself further when Murray chimed in. “Ooh! And burritos! The ones made with flour tortillas!”

“Mm,” Sly wet his lips. “Dunno why that made me think of pizza, but...oh yes. Anchovy pizza.”

“Yuck!” Bentley laughed. “You eat literal trash sometimes, Sly, I can’t imagine that tastes good.”

“Pineapple is better,” Murray said thoughtfully.

“That I’ll agree to,” Bentley said smartly.

Sly made a face. “Eurgh. At least that ruined my appetite! Think I’ll try sleeping now.” And he exaggeratedly mimicked a snore, which made Bentley and Murray laugh.

Silence once more.

Bentley wrung his hands in his blanket. “Um...Sly? Murray?”

“Yeah?” Murray asked as Sly lifted his head off his pillow. 

“I’m…” Bentley fought to hold back tears, but his eyes filled with water as he spoke. “I’m...so glad to have you back. It was so lonely...I…”

Spindly furry arms wrapped him in a tight embrace while warm, muscular arms encircled them both. Bentley felt as safe as if he was in his shell, and that finally made him start to cry.

“It’s okay,” he heard Sly whispering as he cried into the soft gray fur against Sly’s neck. “We’re here for ya, Bentley. It’s all right.” Bentley felt Sly’s tail move to cover his legs, and finally, he hugged Sly back until his sobs died down.

“S-sorry, guys,” Bentley wiped tears from his eyes furiously. This close, he could smell both Sly and Murray together, a mixture of sweat and cotton and cologne. It smelled like the van. It smelled like home, so much that he couldn’t stand it. “I...I just...it didn’t feel real, to have you both here.”

Murray rested his big head on Bentley’s pillow, just above him, enclosing him in so he couldn’t see the moon. He could see Sly’s eyes, though, glowing faintly in the dark. The raccoon was smiling.

“Didn’t feel real to me, either,” Sly admitted, curling his lithe body around Bentley’s like a feline. “It’s good to be back home.”

“Agreed!” Murray’s deep voice vibrated through Bentley’s shell, making the turtle shiver with delight. With his friends so close, there was no room for doubt.

They hadn’t slept cuddled up like this since they were children, but that didn’t matter. It was needed tonight.

They needed each other, now more than ever.

**Author's Note:**

> First time writing for this fandom...how'd I do? lol
> 
> I grew up with this series, and the older I've gotten (and the more I deal with my own mental health and trauma), the more I realize...these three must honestly have mental illnesses of their own, and traumas that they deal with. So I wanted to address one of them.
> 
> Because it must've been nice for Bentley to see his friends alive and well...but what if? So that's where this came from.
> 
> I'm all about platonic cuddle piles y'all. There's no "no homo" in the Cooper Gang, okay? Thanks, bye.


End file.
